


Pink in the night (blossoming alone over you)

by Savium



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, POV Alternating, POV Beauregard Lionett, POV Jester Lavorre, also if you squint you can see beauyashter, but mostly beaujes, implied romantic feelings all around tho, up until episode 106, yasha is a big part of this because i love her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 02:42:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26149651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savium/pseuds/Savium
Summary: As Jester and Beau get used to the new dynamics emerging in the group, they try to make sense of their feelings, separately and together.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Jester Lavorre & Yasha, Jester Lavorre/Beauregard Lionett
Comments: 12
Kudos: 90





	Pink in the night (blossoming alone over you)

**Author's Note:**

> This came about because I needed to make sense of my felings towards canon at the moment, and is a love letter to Beaujester, its potential, and three of the best characters I've ever fallen in love with.  
> Title from Mitski's "Pink in the Night"  
> Enjoy

Jester counts the seconds from the moment they take off towards the top of the waterfall, still reeling from the giddiness of seeing Yasha fly – actually _fly –_ and Yasha herself so happy like she’d never seen her.

But as the seconds turn to minutes, Jester’s thoughts turn to two days prior, when Beau asked Yasha to carry her, and the sketch she’d made of them: Yasha’s muscular arms exaggerately big and a dozen hearts scattered around them, maybe overdoing the way Beau had nuzzled her face into the crook of Yasha’s neck, and Yasha’s smile while she kept her eyes on the trail.

The wear of the battle and then the run to safety out of the lair comes crashing back to her, worry pulsing like a bad headache into her skull.

She stops counting. It’s been far too long.  
What if they’ve fallen?  
What if they’ve encountered some monster, or ghost, or another horrible, dangerous creature and they’re too tired to fend it off by themselves?  
She looks around to find solidarity but none of the others seem to be at all concerned. They're discussing their next steps, and Fjord suggests game plans to make sure the people at the village haven't started killing each other yet when they'll arrive.

The logical part of her starts to take over, and she takes a deep breath as she reasons that maybe they’ve decided to start towards Vo, or just taken a moment to relax, or..

 _N_ _o_.

A sour taste makes its way into her mouth, followed by uneasiness as she bites the inside of her cheek and starts to worry all over again.  
She wants to message them and her hands itch with the inability to do so.

“Do.. I can’t send them any messages. Do you think they went to-” Veth interrupts her thought, offering to message them herself and she does so, after Jester’s shared her worries.

She takes a breath of relief when Veth receives their reply, and as Yasha and Beau find their way back towards the rest of the group, she can see the same happiness they’d displayed earlier, but softer; sees the small smiles and ruffled hair that neither of them tries to fix. And Jester doesn’t know what compels her to do so, but as soon as she catches them she stares into Beau’s eyes, looking for any sign that she might’ve just had sex.

 _Why am I even_..

Beau looks back at her, eyes wide and unreadable expression that doesn’t give anything away.

She feels a blush tinge her cheeks, and has barely the time to avert the gaze before she starts to laugh at herself.

 _What a stupid thing to think_. She tells herself, _i_ _f something happened between them Beau would totally tell her.. right?_

She tries to keep her attention to the discussions happening around them then, but at the back of her mind she can’t stop the sinking feeling the lack of knowledge has left her with.  
For how many times they seem to be able to communicate without a single word, there are times – even if few and far between – when Jester is mystified by Beau’s actions. It’s nonetheless disappointing whenever it happens, and this time it hits a little harder than usual, leaving her feeling a little foolish.

As the party prepares to traverse another tree to get back to Vo, Jester keeps glancing at her friend, worriedly checking her feature for any sign that, against all reason, something really has happened or _will_ happen at any moment.

  
  


*

  
  


Beau counts the sips she takes as Fjord offers Vilya to stay with them for the night.

It’s been a pleasant, if chaotic evening, and she still can’t quite wrap her mind around the druid not wanting even a sip to let loose after such a harrowing morning – and days, really – but she guesses the woman has too much on her mind, too many things to do to risk having alcohol potentially fuck up her her decision making skills. Beau has seen too many drunken fucks ups – hell, she’s been the protagonist a few times over – to know that it’s best to have a clear mind in certain situations.

But tonight’s not the case for her.

They’ve killed a demi-god – or whatever that Vokodo guy was – and she’s made a trip to a place she’s not even sure didn’t come out of a particularly weird dream; and on top of _that_ they’ve all had a vision that definitely came out of someone’s nightmares. So she’s earned to get at least a little bit tipsy, thank you very much.

As Fjord keeps being his suave self, Beau starts to unfocus and her eyes wander around to the rest of the group.  
She spies Caleb and Yasha being weird in a corner and Caleb must’ve said something especially sweet – as he’s wont to do sometimes – because Yasha pulls him into a fiercely tight hug.  
She smiles to herself, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks and she doesn’t know if it’s the cheap whiskey finally doing its job or the thought of those same arms, now causing Caleb a mildly sprained rib, holding her securely against Yasha’s chest that same day.  
She still feels the rush of the flight; being so close to the other woman that any thoughts had been cast away and all she could concentrate on was the feeling of muscles around her and the powerful beat of Yasha’s wings taking them higher and higher and.. Beau had to admit, it had been one of the most exhilarating experiences she’d ever lived.  
Yasha is not one for words, that’s for sure, for her actions speak louder, and that morning even Beau was rendered speechless.

If only she could make sense of the fucking maze of emotions she’s been having lately.

She shakes her head trying to clear her thoughts from the alcohol and her feelings alike.  
It’s not that she’s never had feelings before, but she has locked ‘em up for so long, beat them down as she studied under the Soul, that now they're hard to pin down, like a foe she's underestimated for too long and has finally grown into this monster that routinely comes around to kick her ass. _Bad_.

She makes a note to herself ask Caleb _how_ he manages to hold a whole conversation with the woman, because gods know she hasn't been able to since she's come back – they've been rare occurrences even before that, if she's totally honest. And while before she believed it to be because they were supposedly so different, now she's come to the conclusion that Yasha simply is.. more than she'd ever thought that first time.  
She sure as hell had never imagined things to get quite like this, despite.. well, despite everything else; despite herself and her tendency of her heart to set on the wrong person.

Yasha's eyes catch hers as she pulls away from Caleb, and she sends her a small smile, one she's beginning to get used to more and more and knows she'll never get tired of.

But suddenly something, a persistent tug at her consciousness, make her tear her gaze away, and as she feels the whiskey taste less and less like anything and just burn down along the way, she notices that Vilya is gone and the rest of the group is exchanging a few last words amongst themselves.

As if on cue her eyes fall onto Jester.  
The light of the fire has subsided into a low flame that barely illuminates her features, and Beau imagines rather than sees her smile at something Fjord has said. She can picture them talking, filling in the details she can't see: the crinkles around Fjord's eyes as he ponders a bit too long on something Jester has said, and Jester's grin – all perfectly straight white teeth and canines that make her look that bit more dangerous than she ought to – and..

_fuck._

ok, she’s not on Cadueus’s level and sometimes she feels downright dumb, but most of the time she’s pretty good at noticing things, even when she’s not looking. And.. well, she has tried to do the opposite in regards to Jester lately – to at least tone it down – but sometimes she just can’t help it. Like when earlier this afternoon she'd seen them talk and she'd lingered maybe too much on their expressions, and Fjord really wasn’t trying to hide the fondness with which he was looking at her. They’re not doing it right now either.

Beau feels helpless watching the pretty mundane scene, atmosphere way lighter than their other convo earlier, but still strikingly beautiful in a way.  
She feels like she did as a kid, forced into a pretty dress to attend one of the fancy parties her parents were sometimes invited to, wherein a play of some sort took place; they'd always made her feel out of place while strangely entranced by the beautiful scene at the same time.

And they are, beautiful that is.  
They look so at peace in this moment. Jester's skin glows a little brighter as she laughs at something Fjord has said, and he scratches his finally well-set but rugged beard, a glint in his eyes; the people around them getting to a more relaxed phase of the conversations are a beautiful backdrop to the beautiful picture they make.

She can’t help but think back to Zadash, when she'd wondered – aloud, to Veth of all people – if she thought Jester was confiding in him. And Veth’s answer had made sense at the time, but the nagging feeling of being left behind in a race she didn’t even know she was running until that exact moment still hasn't gone away, resurfacing each time she'd see them like that.

Beau is fast – fast learner, fast judge of character, even faster throwing punches – but she’s always felt so slow when it came to relationships, always chasing other people’s milestones, rushing into things to make up for the time she felt she’d lost; rushing into bed with Tori before even knowing if her feelings were actually reciprocated, before fully understanding those feelings herself. And she smiles now back at the thought of getting _so_ jealous of her that she’d caused more than a fight over literally nothing.  
Beau likes to think she’s changed. She can’t say it doesn’t hurt as much than it did then, but there's things more important than her unrequited love. Beau would lay down her life for her friends, and she knows they would do the same. In the end that’s all that matters.

She takes a swig from Veth’s flask.

They Mighty Nein are the best thing that's ever happened to her and she won’t ever risk getting her own selfish desires in the way of that.

She takes a few more sips still, and _swears_ to herself that she's a better person now. No more dumb fights, no more uselessly pining for her best friend in the dead of night when she can't get her out of her head, no ma'am.

She blames the cheap liquor that goes down her throat burning for the way her eyes mist over.

Heading over to their bench she drinks one last time, sits down next to Fjord and picks up the conversation at the right moment to tease him a bit about whatever. He feigns offence with that same glint in his eyes, and she loves him for that. But her heart still skips a beat hearing Jester’s laughter as the two of them keep throwing tame insults at each other.  
Beau swears there’s nothing more beautiful than that, and it doesn’t matter if it’s her or someone else to cause it, as long as she can keep hearing the sound.

  
  


*

  
  


They don’t use a teleporting circle to get back onto the continent proper this time around, and once in Nicodranas, they start traveling by cart towards some sites of interest at the insistence of Caleb. He wants to visit the ruins of Shattengrod, where the Empire has found another Beacon, but suspects that they would be immediately followed if they used one of the Cobalt Soul's circles in the Empire.

On the road it's harder to feel alone, Jester's found; like when they're all huddled into the dome with barely enough space between them to walk without stepping on someone's head.  
That's probably why Yasha always puts her bedroll at the edge of the circle, against a hard surface like the tree at her back now, so that when it's her turn to take watch she won't risk tripping over anyone.  
It's even luckier that to make her own bed, Jester has started to gravitate near to where Yasha sleeps, so when Veth wakes her up for her shift tonight, she only has to scoot a little to get to where Yasha has signaled for her to sit, lightly patting down the space next to her.  
She gives her a thankful smile and brings her blanket along to cover the both of them; even though Yasha doesn’t seem to need it, she accepts it with a smile of her own, and lets her cover her legs as they settle in for a (hopefully) peaceful night.

Jester has cherished these nights, basking in the stillness and the feeling of time slowing down, as if the world’s taking a long, long breath. Sharing her shifts with Yasha has been a plus really; the woman’s solid frame a reassuring presence she hadn’t realized she’d missed until she’d come back.  
It’s no wonder thunderstorms have become one of her favorite moments, because then she gets to watch Yasha step out into the rain – her own form of commune with the Storm Lord maybe, or she simply likes the feeling of the water cascading on her – and look up at the sky, a slow smile blooming onto her face knowing that she could take off on her wings if she wanted. It’s a mesmerizing sight.  
And to know that thunder doesn’t mean Yasha will leave them soon anymore is almost as good as seeing her there, fearless and ready to take on whatever challenge will be thrown at her next.

They don’t talk too much during watch, content to just sit in companionable silence, relishing each other’s presence. She’s probably the only one Jester is comfortable with in this kind of situation, to be as still as she never gets to in the daytime.  
That’s another thing she’s grateful for.

As the minutes unhurriedly go by, Jester starts to count under her breath.  
She wonders whether this is Caleb rubbing off on her or if she's developed this new habit all on her own. It's hard to pinpoint the exact moment she started, but she guesses it's due to her trying to get details right when drawing sketches of her companions.  
Sketchbook set aside, she gets on with counting the number of blankets each of them is wearing, the lines that make up Veth's tattoo on her face, the scratches on Caduceus's shield laid down next to him.  
Somewhere along the way she lands on Beau's face, mouth just the littlest bit open and her soft snore among the few sounds in the mostly silent night. And it’s almost hypnotic.  
Jester recalls all the times she was woken up by Beau tossing and talking in her sleep. She’s probably heard enough to know more things than her friend is comfortable sharing with her while fully awake, so she’s learned pretty soon to try to ignore it as much as possible. But she can’t deny that it’s become a sort of comfort of its own; knowing Beau is _there_ still so alive and active even when unconscious.  
To think of her not being with them while she sleeps..

“ _I’m going to be a loner.”_

Her eyes start burning and she fights to keep breathing normally, as sadness suddenly washes over her.  
She doesn’t know why she’s never brought it up with her.

“ _The things we’ve done together? I’m never gonna top that.”_

She’d felt anger at first. Knowing Beau valued her own life so little. Knowing she believed they would just be.. what, _ok_ with her leaving them?

A hand lightly falls on her shoulder, as if sensing her distress, and Jester twists her head away with an abrupt movement, trying to hide her expression from Yasha.

How long has she been staring?

Her own hand goes to her face to catch any wetness there, but when it comes away dry she immediately starts to recompose herself.  
Smile in place, she turns towards Yasha, whose eyes hold the question before she can utter it out loud.

“Everything ok?”

Jester lets out a small laugh she knows won’t fool her and stops pretending as fast as she started.

“Yeah.” She closes her eyes, scrunching her brows in concentration as she thinks of what to say. “T _echnically_ everything’s ok.” What was it Fjord had said? If something happens she doesn’t need to hold it to herslef.

 _Sharing and honesty, right.  
_She doesn’t think this is quite the situation he was talking about but the advice had struck her as something applyable to many contexts.

Yasha squeezes her hand on her shoulder and, to be fair, if there was _one_ person Jester would feel completely safe talking about this with, that’d be her.

“Sometimes things feel just kinda.. off even when everything’s ok.”

Yasha chuckles. “I get that,” she says, but her voice is devoid of any malice, and Jester immediately feels lighter just for it.  
She relaxes and slumps a bit against the other woman, who promptly offers her side as a place to rest, hand shifting to Jester’s other shoulder to hold her in an awkward half embrace. Yasha is a bit stiff for a few seconds, but then her arm settles more comfortably around Jester and she continues, “Is this about the- um.. Artagan?”

Jester had started calling him that at his insistence, after everything on Rumblecusp – after Jester had successfully helped him lose a fair amount of followers – and the others had followed suit. 

“No, we..” She takes a deep breath. If the experience had also broken something in their relationship, that was a whole other talk. “We’re alright for now..”

Yasha seems to consider her for a few seconds before saying, “you know I’m not usually the one to pry on people’s business.. but.. there’s a but in there, right?”

“Sooo many butts everywhere.” She immediatly bites her lip at falling back to jokes whenever she doesn’t want to deal with something.

Yasha lets out an amused sigh, but doesn’t reprimand her for her joke.

“It’s not.. it’s not _just_ him. It’s me, I don’t- I don’t know how to say it.” And as if to prove her point Yasha looks a bit confused at the statement.

“Do you feel like you did something wrong?”

“I guess?” she says tentatively. “I mean, no, not to him. H _e’s_ the one that hasn’t been honest with me and got me into that mess,” she shakes her head thinking about how they’d barely managed to make the other followers believe that The Traveler had entered the Divine Gate and couldn’t be as present for them as he’d been. “I just wish I’d confronted him sooner, before things had gotten that complicated.”

“He didn’t really give you much time to prepare. Or even a choice. It’s definitely not your fault.” Yasha says squeezing her shoulder.

Jester can’t really argue with that, she’s said it herself after all. In a sense she’d been lucky on Rumblecusp; they’d saved a bunch of people, made an outrageous amount of money, and she’d even helped Artagan with his goal.. she’d made progress with him. Addressing the strain in their relationship and her doubts had been a step forward, no matter how hard and ill-timed the conversation might have been.  
Still, she wished she’d said more, and sooner.

That was the crux of her problem right now, wasn’t it? She was so scared that her luck would run out someday, all because she didn’t know _how_ to talk to people about what really mattered; about things that scared her.  
She had agonized so long about what to say to her dad and to Artagan, and the only way she’d been able to in the first place was because of her friends.

She looks around at them, all sound asleep and trusting in her to keep them safe for this stretch of the night, and thanks them silently for being there and encouraging her all those times.  
A chuckle escapes her when she recalls Beau saying she would punch the Traveler if she’d only asked.  
She doesn’t know how to tell her that that had meant the world ro her.

And how how would she be able to ask her for advice when the advice she needed was to talk to Beau _herself_?

Jester let the question eat at her a few minutes more before Yasha’s warmth brought her back. She’d never repositioned her arm, as if sensing Jester’s need to be anchored to reality tonight.  
She decides then and there to suck it up and just ask her.

“Hey Yasha,” she begins, nerves robbing her of her voice for a split second. “How.. how did you find the courage to confess to Zuala?”

Yasha seems taken aback by the question, turning to study Jester’s face as she ponders.  
Jester feels as exposed as she’s ever been under the different colors of Yasha’s gaze.

“Well, I saw her in a new light one day and all I did was slay and present her with the biggest beast I could find in the desert.”

“you-” Jester looks better at her impassive expression, the deadpan tone of the answer throwing her off enough to force her panick at the back of her mind. She knew Yasha came from a nomadic tribe and she wasn’t one to judge other people’s traditions, but she’d had the impression that to marry someone one should at least talk things through with your future spouse.  
It’s the twinkling in Yasha’s eyes that gives it away.

“That- tha was a lie!” Jester whisper-shouts at her, and Yasha grins cheekily at finally being caught making a joke.

“Yep,” comes the self-satisfied confirmation.

Jester lets out a snort of her own and shakes her head at being fooled so easily.

“she.. she kissed me.” Yasha continues, a smile still on her face; it’s the one she gets when she sees something especially beautiful, or when one of them pays her an unexpected compliment. “We used to pair up to make small hunting parties from time to time. We had been for a while at that point. And one day she just- pulled me in and kissed me. I had never even thought I could do that” – she shakes her head – “I was just content making her smile whenever I could.”

Jester doesn't even register it when she lets out a _wow._

 _So it_ can _be like_ _in the_ _storie_ s.

This is the most Jester has ever heard Yasha talk about Zuala and she realizes that something has shifted from the last time she told them about her. She looks lighter, serene as she's never seen her. And as the memories come back she still holds them dear, but they don't seem to weigh as much now.

“Hadn’t you known until then?” Jester presses on.

“Honestly?” Yasha turns to her, “I think I was just afraid.”

“Of what?” It escapes in the slightest voice, as if Jester too is afraid of the answer.

“Of feeling too much, I guess.” Yasha pauses, looks up at the starry night to collect her thoughts. “until I didn’t do anything too.. forward, I felt like I had control over my emotions. I guess that was just a bullshit excuse because I’ve never been good at that.” Jester immediately recalls the anger that flashes into Yasha’s eyes during battle; a subtle rage that sometimes scares her and excites her at the same time.

“How did you learn to let it go?” she doesn't have to say she's talking about the fear, and Yasha turns to face ahead, where Beau is still snoring in her sleep. It’s brief but Jester could swear she sees a blush creep up the side pf her neck, up to her sculpted cheeks, her pale complexion not leaving much doubt even in the low light.

“I’m still learning.”

_oh_

“But, I guess you just have to try. And eventually we'll get used to doing the work. I’ve spent way too long not being able to make my own decision. I don’t want to waste anymore time.”

Jester’s left speechless and a bit embarrassed of the weird, heavy feeling that’s taking residence in her chest. In her mind it makes so much sense that they would eventually start toying with the idea.. despite all the complications, all the difficulties they’ve had to face since they’ve become a family, Yasha is here now. She is _here_ and impossibly beautiful, and she’s taken back her rightful place into their ragtag family. Jester couldn’t be happier for her and the Nein.  
And yet, knowing that Beau and Yasha's flirting is becoming more than that, she suddenly feels out of place, like she hadn’t since she’d left her mother’s house up until she’d met Fjord on the road to Trostenwald – and before that it was something she hadn’t recognized in herself until the Traveler had come around.

Guilt soon replaces it as she watches Yasha’s open and vulnerable face.

 _That’s what courage is_ , she tells herself.

And no matter how many brave acts Jester’s made in the relatively short but eventful time she’s spent with the Mighty Nein, she can’t find anything that’s quite like Yasha opening up again to love after everything she’s gone through.

Jester feels so small, and inexperienced, and not at all on the same level as her friend, who’s so selflessy being vulnerable for her sake.  
Jester feels both like hiding and shower her with affection. And so she does, turning in their embrace to give Yasha a proper hug.

“Yasha, thank you for being here.” she mumbles into her chest, just before she starts feeling a lump in her throat. But Yasha must have heard her because she swiftly recovers from the surprise attack and holds Jester just as tight.

“Thank you for having me.” It’s almost like she just smothered down Jester’s unshed tears with just the warmth of her voice.

They stay like that for a while; Yasha silently keeps watch over her head, and Jester counts her breaths till she calms down enough to ease the tension in the muscles that had clamped around the other woman.  
She feels so silly for not realizing things sooner, too taken with her daydreams of a perfect romance hero she’d first seen in Fjord. She knows better now, and she knows things aren’t ever as simple as books make them out to be. Definitely not as simple as she’s imagined.

She just wishes she could muster the courage to ask herself what she actually wants, and to go for it, just like Yasha is doing.. but that would mean getting in the way, wouldn’t it?

With a sigh she squeezes Yasha’s frame one last time, trying to absorb as much comfort as she can, and give it back threefold, and then pulls away. Yasha searches her eyes and must find some trace of sadness still, but doesn’t push her to keep talking. She just fixes her with a knowing look and says, “It’s gonna be ok, Jes.” She squeezes her shoulders in emphasis for good measure.  
And Jester believes her. She doesn’t know how she’ll get there, nor how long it will take, but she makes herself a promise in that moment: she’ll make sure to see that her friends and herself are happy.

“Yeah,” she smiles. “I think we should go get the others for the next shift. I’m spent.”

Yasha nods her approval and starts to get up. “I’ll get Beau, you go get some rest rest, okay?”  
Jester almost laughs out loud at the irony of the statement, but she just nods and heads towards her coat.

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Yasha take careful steps and kneel down to gently shake Beau awake. The girl takes a few seconds to open her eyes and when she speaks she does so in the deepest, quietest voice. Jester knows it all too well – rough and so low like she’s been asleep for days – but it’s too low to catch what she’s saying, even in the silent night. Jester only sees Yasha laugh softly.

“No Beau, you’re very much awake.. mostly. It’s your turn to take watch.”

Beau stretches, back slowly arching away from the ground, and Jester freezes in the middle of pulling her blanket over herself.

“Thanks for waking me, Yash.” The woman in question just nods and smiles in response, and with a jump Beau’s up and walking towards Caduceus to wake him up.  
Jester hurries to snap out of whatever daze she’d fallen into, heart pounding so loud she fears it’ll be noticed by anyone that gets close enough, and gets herself inside the covers, feeling the rustle of Yasha’s blanket as she settles beside her.

But just as Beau passes beside her, she turns her eyes up and meets blue staring back at her in the low light.

“Hey Beau,” she breathes.

“Hey Jes,” comes the reply, her voice still that low murmur she’s so used to hear late at night, “goodnight.”  
And Jester immediately relaxes.  
She must imagine the way Beau’s eyes become impossibly soft just as she slips on her goggles.

“‘night.”

  
  


*

  
  


  
Beau doesn’t know when things took the turn to the way they are now.  
They’d been traveling through the Empire for a few weeks, trying to be as inconspicuous as they could while looking for clues on the Cerberus Assembly’s whereabouts and plans.  
She’s not sure how successful they were overall in their quest, but for the first time in a while they weren’t running from anything nor had an impending event to brace for.  
Beau dares to think of the last two weeks as the most relaxing journey she’d experienced since.. well, since ever really.  
They’d spent nights in taverns drinking and dancing and catching a break from the fatigues of life; days and days in the open fields on the road, breathing in the newly acquired peace they had helped forge. It had almost felt like the beginnings of their friendship, except for the added sense of comradery all the time and adventures together had gifted them.

She wouldn’t be honest if she didn’t admit that the most unexpected change had come from her relationship with Yasha, though. The two of them had spent countless moments relearning – or learning, really – how to be around each other, and Beau had caught herself more than once silently staring in wonder at the other woman, or getting flustered whenever they fell into awkward flirting. Yasha was unexpected in the best of ways, and Beau couldn’t help but let herself enjoy those moments on the road without stressing over the _what ifs_ and how complicated things would or wouldn’t get.

Coming back to the Xhorhaus to catch up with Essek and the goings-on in the Dynasty had felt like the most natural thing after deciding they should leave the Empire and think of the next course of action.

Beau spends the last hours of the evening slowly drinking from Veth’s flask, passing it around to the fewer and fewer members of the party that, one by one, retire to their rooms, eager to sleep in their own beds at last. All minus Jester, who sips one of Caduceus’ teas instead.

Beau thinks she looks older somehow, as if some monumental shift has happened since Rumblecusp and Travelercon, and it’s no surprise. Beau’s heart fills with pride as she thinks of the way she’d handled Artagan and his shady ways. Part of her is a bit disappointed she didn’t have the chance to punch him in the face, but she’s more glad that Jester managed to assert herself as someone Artagan should not to fuck with. An equal.

Still, _what a prick_.

Beau doesn’t drink that much tonight, just enough to get a little tipsy, so her joy and good spirits are mostly due to being back in what she has come to consider her home and the not so subtle way Yasha’s attention has been almost exclusively focused on her the whole night.

When everyone but Jester, Yasha, and herself have left for the night though, she’s sober enough to feel the tension in the room as silence fills it; not quite uncomfortable but still fucking weird for them.  
Beau twirls the never-ending liquid inside the flask and stares at it for a while, wondering if she’s missed something about the two of them.  
It’s Jester that finally breaks the silence.

“Did you guys know blink dogs can understand sylvan?”

_wait, what?_

“..uh?” Yasha says, just as confused as her apparently.

“Yeah, mama told me the last time I sent her a message! She said some client of hers or whatever started speaking to Nugget in sylvan and he seemed to understand everything he said. But not like how dogs usually get what you say to them after a while. It was like when Caduceus talks to animals, you know?”

“That’s wild.” Beau says, wondering how someone could test something like that. Maybe Caleb knew more about it. She should ask him tomorrow.

“Yeah! That’s pretty great, right?” Jester’s smile is so bright it makes Beau relax almost by reflex. Until she remembers.

“Wait, you said sylvan. That’s spoken by fey right? Isn’t Artagan..”

“You think he could’ve gone to talk to Marion?” Yasha chimes in.

“What? no.” Jester firmly says. “I’m sure he wouldn’t. not without telling me..” she mumbles something under her breath Beau doesn’t catch. “I’m gonna ask him though, just to make sure.”

“That’s a good idea.”

“Yeah..” Beau takes another sip of that awful, awful whiskey – they should really get around to fill it with something better – and thinks of their dog that’s definitely not a puppy anymore.  
“That’s nice, though,” she chuckles. “Finally, I have something in common with Nugget. I was starting to think he’d only taken after you.” She nods to Jester, who’s looking at her with a puzzled look.

“What do you mean by.. wait-” her hand slams on the table with a thud that makes Beau start. “wait, wait, wait.” She looks like she’s put together the clues to a mystery. “You can understand sylvan? Since when?” she demands.

“Uh..” Beau takes a few moments to catch up. “Ah, that. It’s not sylvan per se, I guess..” she says, reaching to massage her own neck with the hand that’s not holding the flask, as she begins to explain. “I started noticing it on Rumblecusp once everyone had gotten their memories back and- you remember how some people were from other continents, right? And some had started talking in their native languages from time to time. At first I hadn’t paid it much attention but then it happened again once we were in Nicodranas and I heard these dudes at the harbour speaking marquesian, I guess?” She starts swinging on her own chair.  
“Fact is, I’ve studied a couple languages with the monks, but I’ve _never_ studied that one. And then it happened with another one. And another one. And turns out I can understand basically all languages? Dunno how it affects other people that hear _me_ talk, though.”

“Beau that is _amazing_!!” Jester half-shouts, mouth agape in excitement. “We totally have to try with Nugget when we go back to mama’s!” Beau’s smile only grows bigger. She’s aware that she’s capable of pretty great stuff, but sometimes going toe to toe with magic users is a bit harsh on her ego. This is another thing entirely though, and she was waiting for the right time to reveal it. She _knows_ it’s gonna come in handy sooner or later, and she doesn’t even have to cast a spell for it to work, ah!

_suck it, Caleb!_

Maybe she’s a bit tipsier than what she thought, after all.

“Jessie’s right, that’s pretty impressive, Beau.” Yasha nods in her direction and leans in to steal the flask from her hand. Beau doesn’t let go immediately, letting herself be pulled so that her chair stands on all four legs again. She holds Yasha’s gaze one more second before letting her have the flask.

“Thank you kindly, ladies, ” she says to the both of them with a slight bow, “wanna try me??” Spurred by the praise she raises her arms, gesturing at the almost empty room to challenge an invisible audience. Both Yasha and Jester start laughing, but Beau feels too good right now to mind, only glad that the weird tension from before has disappeared.

Jester’s the first one to recover and accept the offer, saying “alright, smarty pants.” Her eyes twinkle with mischief and she bites her bottom lip.  
Beau feels the beginning of the overwhelming thrill that bantering with Jester always gives her; the adrenaline spike almost as good as the rush of battle. And she’s torn between wanting to spur a reaction out of her, insisting on the righteousness of her reasoning, and the need to surrender to anything that pops into Jester’s mind.

She loves her so much it almost makes her crazy the gravity of her need to discover everything about her when she _knows_ Jester’s too exceptional to be defined.

_Fuck._

Jester gives her a look like she can see Beau’s brain overheat in her head, and smirks, fangs on display as she starts speaking in what must be infernal.  
She doesn’t remember the last time she’s heard Jester use it – it was always more Molly’s thing anyways – but she’s pretty sure that’s it. And when her brain catches up and gives meaning to the low, growling sounds, she starts laughing out loud. The smile on Jester’s face tells her she’s probably had the right reaction.

“You’re gonna- hang me by the tail,” she barely manages to let out her translation, “but also cause me to lose all my riches.. to the last copper piece? what in hell, Jester, why does it have two meanings?”  
The tiefling lets out a laugh of her own at that, face a little flushed purple, drunk on the giddiness of the atmosphere.

“I don’t know,” she starts, “it always has two meanings and I don’t think my mama knows why either. But I love it.” She smiles, and Beau suddenly feels like she’s been let in on a very old, very important secret, and she silently thanks Ioun or whatever higher power has granted her this gift.

“That was seriously crazy good, Beau. I still can’t believe it.”

“Hey now Jes, you’re spoiling me.” She hides her face behind a hand in false modesty, enjoying the praise. She then looks to her side where Yasha’s caught in her own laugh and not quite looking back at her. She has that quiet joy she’s getting used to see in her eyes.

“But don’t let that stop you, please! Keep ‘em coming!” she says, winking at Yasha as she says, “any more nice things to say about me?”

Yasha stalls only for a second before replying.

All Beau hears is music, words that come out like notes and _feel_ like one of the most beautiful songs she’d ever heard.

And then she feels herself blush. Hard.

“ _No language would do you justice.”_

It’s not the most forward compliment she’s ever received, but the sheer poetry of it paired with the actual sounds coming from Yasha’s mouth stun her for a few seconds.

The scratch of a chair on the floor snaps her out of the semi-trance she’d fallen into, and when she turns towards the sound she sees Jester slowly standing up. She evidently had not wanted to attract any attention because she looks startled that their eyes are now on her.

“Um.. I’ll,” she clears her voice, “I’ll leave you two to it. I’ve gotten super tired all of a sudden and,” she keeps saying as she starts to ramble the more she goes, “I realized I haven’t even checked on Sprinkle in his nest and I should.. yeah, um. Goodnight.”  
And before Yasha or Beau can say anything in response, she’s gone up the stairs and left them with the awkward – yet again – atmosphere she’d felt earlier.

Beau keeps looking at the spot where Jester has disappeared until Yasha stands up as well. She steps towards her and Beau looks on, transfixed, as she grabs the cap and, after closing the flask with it, she sets it on the table next to her.  
Beau’s as confused and conflicted as can be right now, and it must show her on her face because Yasha gives her a sympathetic smile and says, “I’ll get going too.” She then fixes her with the utmost gentleness. How she can be so soft and emphatic at the same time Beau will never know. “You should talk to her. i think she needs to and,” she puts a hand on her shoulder, “you need it too.”

“I..” Beau doesn't really know what she wants to say. She looks at Yasha’s mismatched eyes and finds herself unable to form any coherent thought.

 _How the fuck did I get here?_ she again asks herself.

With a final squeeze, Yasha bids her goodnight and walks out of the room, leaving Beau to ruminate on the peculiar situation she’s gotten herslef into. It’s only when she realizes she’s started to unthinkingly bite her nails – a bad habit that peeks its head out from time to time – that she decides to go back to her room. If she wants to make things right she first has to ascertain that there’s actually something wrong. And Beau is desperate to understand what the fuck is going on between the three of them – she conveniently overlooks for the time being that part of the problem rests on her shoulders.

She starts up the stairs with reluctant steps, still a bit puzzled as to what it is that she’s feeling right now.  
She’d thought things were doing great, with Yasha and their increasingly genuine flirting, and with Jester as well; her crush – as she insisted to think of it – was safely tucked at the back of her mind, and she’d felt free to support her friend as much as she could without making things messy.

So why is she standing in front of the door to their room with the ominous feeling that she’s about o fuck things up?

With a deep breath she steadies the trembling hand that overs on the handle, and pushes it open slowly, as if to not disrupt the air inside the room. From the first fissure she can see the faint pink glowing in the dark, can sense the crackle of magic, the telltale sign of Jester’s spell to commune with her almost-god; she doesn’t know when her magic turned to this tinge, but she likes it better than the old green it used to have, more _Jester’s_ than Artagan’s.

When Beau finally steps in fully, the other girl turns towards her, eyes wide in surprise. It’s a transfixing sight: Jester’s whole frame glows faintly, but the main source of the light is her hands and eyes, and Beau loses herself for a second or two watching it flow away from her, slowly waning into nothingness as the spell ends.  
Soon she’s standing in darkness, only a few weak rays of light coming from the patio outside, and the faintest glow of Jester’s tattoo under the low cut of her nightgown. But her eyes are still filled with the imprint of Jester’s magic where she'd looked directly at her. She closes them, suddenly shy – despite having been in the same room many times as Jester cast the spell, she feels like she intruded in something that wasn’t meant for her – and shakes her head.

“Shit, fuck. Sorry, Jes, I didn’t want to interrupt.”

“No, no,” comes Jester’s voice along with the sound of her getting up from the bed and tinkering with a match to light up one of the lanterns, “don’t worry, I was just finished anyways.”

Beau looks at her now as she stands next to the newest light, and she sends her a thankful smile. “Cool,” she tries assuaging her own nerves as she goes to her untouched backpack on her bed and starts to take out random things out of it. “Any news from Artagan?” she asks, unable to completely hide the mild distaste she has for the guy as she says his name.

Jester chuckles. “Nothing much, really.” Beau feels her getting closer. “Just gossip, really.”

“Oh?” She turns to the other girl, brow raised.

“Yeah, nothing.. nothing that interesting.” The fact that Jester doesn’t immediately launch herself into a fully detailed account of what she’d been “gossiping” about with the Traveler surprises Beau more than anything else; and worries her a bit, if she’s totally honest.

“Hey,” she says, finally turning her body to give Jester her whole attention, “if you want to chat I’m here and I promise I won’t fall asleep as soon as I sit on the bed.” She sends her a wink for good measure, but Jester looks as puzzled as she feels.

“Wait, weren’t you..” she lets the words hang in there, brows raising as if the rest of the question should be obvious. “I thought you..” Jester says then, “I thought you and Yasha.. were--” she clears her throat “--I mean, maybe not today, okay. Um..”  
For how much pride Beau takes in her intellect and her ability to find and connect clues, she feels incredibly dumb when it takes her a few more seconds of awkward silence to _get_ what Jester is talking about.

“All I wanna say is,” Jester starts nervously playing with the rings on her fingers, “if you wanna go.. wherever, I wouldn't..I mean, I'm happy for you-”

"Jes what-”

“-and Yasha.”

_oh_

“It’s not like-” but she stops mid sentence because she realizes that it totally looks like what Jester is implying. Beau feels herself shrink under Jester's knowing look, and now _she's_ the one being caught.

But she would never... wouldn't she?  
Not knowing what she would do if the occasion presented itself makes Beau feel worse than expected when confronted with Jester’s certainty. She feels herself start to sweat, and wonders if feigning a fever would get her out of this sooner than words.  
Beau kicks herself for even thinking of dodging this topic with Jester now that they are at it. The last thing she wantsto be with her is untruthful.

“I mean,” she starts again, “I’ll admit things between us are.. going a certain way. And, to be honest, I didn’t ever imagine them to go like this.. but I’m _not_ going to leave my room to get it on with Yasha the first night we get back,” she bursts out. “I’m not gonna leave you alone either. This is our room. And I’m your roommate. I wouldn’t just up and leave without saying anything to you.”

“That’s what I’m saying though,” Jester rebuts. “I’m ok with it. If you want to change rooms, get your own or go to Yasha’s,” she says a little too vehemently, eyes wandering everywhere but to where Beau stands, “I’m good with it. And you can do whatever you want, obviously, but.. you should go get what makes you happy,” she adds with a watery smile, finally locking eyes with her “and lately you look so happy, Beau,"

“Jes..”

"Yasha makes you happy, and you make _her_ happy. If even I can see it, it must be something truly special. And just because we roomed together here first doesn’t mean you can’t change your mind.”  
Jester’s words sound so final, but Beau’s mind only fills with more and more questions as the seconds pass.

Were her and Yasha really that obvious?

She recalls all the times Jester had seen them flirt, how she had sometimes jokingly spurred them on, and how on those occasions she had felt both the giddiness of that something new, and the sensation of her heart ripping itself apart because it wanted something else as well. _Someone_ else.  
She tries to look for an answer in Jester’s eyes, but all she sees is a sadness she hadn’t realized had been there the whole time.  
She’s missing something. But most importantly, Jester needs her, now. She feels it in the way she tightens her fists next to herself; how they’ve started to faintly glow pink, as if the magic in her is trying to escape and ask for help but Jester doesn’t let it.

She steps towards the tiefling then, takes a hold of her hands and asks, “Jes, what’s really going on?” She tries to make her voice as soft as she’s capable of, but the only answer she gets is Jester tensing and struggling to swallow.

It’s the first time Beau sees her at such a loss for words, and the sight is nearly torturous. She musters all the gentleness she has and pulls her towards her bed.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” she pleads with her eyes as they slowly settle down, hands still clasped together.

Jester’s tears start pouring down as soon as they touch the mattress, and not knowing what is causing them and being unable to help her is worse than anything Beau has ever experienced. 

“Jes, please, I’m kinda freaking out right now?” she half-laughs, voice broken from worry. She doesn’t know how long she can take this before saying or doing something _stupid_ , but she’s saved from herself when Jester launches into her arms, knocking the wind out of her.  
It’s a good thing they’re already sitting down, because she would’ve fallen from the sheer force behind Jester’s hug otherwise. She steadies herself with one hand behind her back, while the other wraps Jester around the shoulders, pulling her in even more.

“Would you laugh at me if I said I’ve missed you?” Jester asks eventually, burying into the crook of her neck a little.  
Relief rushes into her body as she lets Jester’s words sink in; she savors them for a second but doesn’t hesitate to reply.

“Of course not,” she says a little breathlessly. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Really?”

“Of course,” she smiles, stroking a strand of Jester’s hair behind an ear. “I’ve missed rooming with you.. see you concentrate on your sketches without anyone around. I’ve missed our chats about what weird stuff the others get up to in their rooms.. I just.. missed you.” Her laugh reverberates in their hug and she’s suddenly struck by their closeness right now. She wonders if Jester can hear her heart beating like crazy, saying what she’s hidden in her words.

Jester lets out a laugh of her own as she says, “I’ve missed your snoring.”

“ah!” Beau chuckles, “I’m gonna hold onto that for future reference, just so you know.”  
She almost feels Jester rolling her eyes from where she’s buried in her chest.  
“Besides, you were still able to hear that in the dome.”

“‘wasn’t the same..”

“mmh,” she ponders, hand still moving in slow strokes pn blue strands of hair. “I think I get it.”

After a few seconds of silence Jester starts to pull away, not to completely untangle herself, but enough to look Beau in the eyes.

“It felt silly,” she says.

“Why?”

“I just.. things with Artagan are finally going better. I sent a message to my dad the other day and he was so happy to hear from me,” her face blooms into a grin a mile wide, “he even said he couldn’t wait to see me again and listen to all the crazy stuff we’ve been up to. And I know I have mama, and all you guys. I _know_ I’m not alone, but-” her smile slowly leaves her face, as she continues “-I still felt like I was at times.. because I missed _you_. Spending time with just the two of us as we did before. And I felt stupid because it shouldn't matter if we got to share a room or not, as long as we're together still and..I don’t wanna put that on you” – she shakes her head – “or get in the way of you and Yasha, or-”

“-what?” uncertainty turns to uneasiness in just a second at those words.

“-or bother you in any way-”

“Jester, wait- wait!” Beau puts her hands on Jester’s shoulders and shakes them once, forcing her to look her in the eyes. She doesn't know if what she sees is Jester's fear or her own reflected to her. Either way she wants it gone.

Still, her voice trembles as she asks, “why would you being my roommate and spending time with me get in the way of.. me and Yasha?”

Something really weird happens then.

Beau can’t help but look on helplessly as a lone tear breaks free from Jester’s eyelids, and feels the other girl take one of her hands and bring it to her own chest, right above her heart.  
Beau can almost feel the individual speckles of diamond that make up the design of her tattoo, but what steals all her attention is how fast and strong Jester’s heartbeat is; how it rivals her own as the thought starts to bloom that maybe, _somehow,_ what she hadn't dared to hope for – what she'd _forced_ herself to cast out of her mind – could actually be happening right now.

When Jester starts to speak, it’s with the same determination she sees in her whenever she’s performing a healing spell, her whole body devoted to that single act, eyes glinting of that pink light. It makes her feel special even before the words start coming.

"It's been like this since I met you,” she says, firmly holding their joined hands above her heart. “And it gets like this every time you make me laugh, or you get overprotective and,” she chuckles, “you threaten to punch a god for me. When you encourage me and tell me _I’m_ more powerful than him.  
“It gets like this even when we fight and you insist, and insist against my stubbornness- you make me-” she puffs out “ _so_ frustrated sometimes. But it doesn’t matter because I always come back, and feel _this_ ,” she grips her hand tighter against her chest, “this thing that makes me forget why I got mad in the first place. It beats like this when you get hurt in battle, or when you get defensive and don’t let anyone in.. it hurts then.” sorrow seeps from her every word now.  
“When you said you would’ve gone away,” she adds, swallowing away the pain, “I’ve never told you how much that hurt. I was so afraid, Beau. And I didn’t know how to say how scared I was of losing you. How much the thought paralized me. And I saw how much you were hurting too, but I never had the guts to say how much I needed you; how I wanted you to _stay_ , that I would do anything to make you happy, but to do that I need you to _stay_.” Her smile is barely there when she continues, “And now you’re here, and you look happy. _Yasha_ makes you happy, and.. I want to be that person for you as well.”

Beau’s breath seems to leave her for good when she sees Jester close her eyes and lean in to touch their foreheads together. They stay there a moment, sharing the air between them as Beau stares at her, afraid that if she closes her eyes she’ll find out this is all a dream. But Jester’s heart still dictating the rhythm of her own against her hand reassures her that this is in fact all very real.

"I'm doing this all wrong,” Jester says. Behind her self-deprecating humor she looks emotionally proved as she reopens her eyes. “I didn't want to make a grand speech.. this is such a cliché"

"Hey, hey, no,” Beau finds herself whispering, “it’s perfect.”

Jester seems to accept the objection and just smiles, wonder in her eyes as if she still can’t believe she’s been able to say all that. She Beau can’t possibly be less than her bravest self if she want to honour her.

  
“Jester?”

“Mh?”

Beau sees the momentary worry that flashes in Jester’s eyes before she rearranges their hands so that she’s pressing Jester’s against _her_ chest now, to feel the way her heart’s galloping underneath.

“You already are that person to me,” she says. “And sometimes it feels like it comes out of me pouring, how much you make me happy, and I don’t know what to do with it. And I.. I do feel for other people sometimes, and I don’t know what that means right now but what I know for sure is that there’s nothing, nor anyone, that has ever made me happier than I am right now.”

Not for the first time this evening Beau finds herself wondering how she’s gotten to where she is right now, but the thought doesn’t scare her anymore.

“Well, I was not prepared for all this to be this complicated,” Jester laughs, brushing her nose against hers, and Beau can’t help but follow suit.

“You tell me.” She closes her eyes savoring the feeling of Jester so close to her. “Fuck, you’re the first person I’ve ever been in love with so I’m not really an expert but-”  
A soft gasp shuts her thoughts and she opens her eyes to find Jester right _there_ , flushed purple cheeks still damp from her tears, and impossibly beautiful.

_Shit._

She’d said it. she’d actually said it.  
After the shock of realizing that simple fact, Beau feels the weight of it lifted, leaving only the overflowing sweetness of what she feels for Jester, now free to let itself known in the smile that spreads across her face.

“Yeah,” she breathes out. And there’s no use saying anything else right now; not when all she wants to do is-

She lifts a hand to Jester’s face, thumb purposefully tracing her bottom lip in an unspoken question.  
They must look like something out of one of Jester’s cheesiest romances, but Beau doesn’t really care. Not when Jester is _really_ smiling at last.

“Love you too, Beau.”

She doesn’t know how long they stay like that, breathing in the words, as if wanting to savor the new meaning as long as possible, make it a part of themselves; nor does she know who finally bridges the last, small gap between them, but when Jester presses her mouth against her own, barely containing her grin as she does, Beau thinks she has found the best way to make her smile yet.


End file.
